Burning Things

In the never-ending battle against the yard, Matthew and Jonathan helped me destroy much debris on the palatial Kenney estate on a beautiful Saturday.

For those of you who have visited us out here at Kent’s Store, you know the drill. For those of you who haven’t been subjected to my lengthy harangue of what needs to be done to my house and yard, allow me to begin: It’s a mess.

Every day I go outside, I find something new to fix or clean up. For my personality, this is a good thing (I love fixing things), but for my sensibilities I am constantly asking myself what was possibly going through the minds of those responsible for creating the mess in the first place.

I’ll give you some good examples: Old roofing tile. Chicken wire where chicken wire should not be. Baseball sized rocks in the yard. Gravel where gravel does not belong. Weeds allowed to grow in patches (!) in the middle of the yard. Piles of brush. Old tires, of which I’ve found eleven and continue to discover more. Plastic containers. Beer bottles. Unopened beer bottles. Burn piles consisting of material that does not burn. Burn piles consisting of material that could burn, but was never touched. Massive, overgrown bushes. Odd flowers poking through where flowers beds should not be (irises in particular). Old tools laying about. Tree stumps everywhere in places good trees were, but were timbered for cash. A poorly built swing. Massive freakin’ boulders used as decoration (clearly to protect the baseball-sized rocks scattered randomly on the property).

Etcetera. I’m not bitter, just bewildered.

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